


A Plan for Adolescent Associates

by MeltyRum



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23448349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: Pre teen titans.
Kudos: 3
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	A Plan for Adolescent Associates

He was relieved to catch Bruce outside of the cave this time, his personal laptop tucked under his arm—the one with the _Superheroes of the City_ heroes’ logo slapped ironically atop the half-eaten fruit which graced the lid, which helped cleverly disguise it as an inferior machine. Tim wasn’t sure if he would need the materials on it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have it in hand while Bruce pored over the reading material in his study—probably only here because Alfred had pestered him out of the cave. It was certainly true that they _all_ were starting to spend a little too much time there, as though the rest of the manor didn’t exist.

“Bruce,” he greeted, his overwrought attempt at cool confidence earning him a slight quiver in his voice which betrayed his nerves.

The billionaire didn’t even pretend not to notice it, his eyes coming up immediately from the book in his hands, weight shifting ever so slightly against the leather of the couch. “Something on your mind, Tim?”

Well, then… should he just get right into it?

“Given that you speak Japanese, you’re probably pretty familiar with the country’s culture, right?” asked Tim, trying for a gentler approach that might help the Batman take him more seriously.

One of Bruce’s eyebrows rose in puzzlement—a rare look on him, but not one that necessarily gave Tim any satisfaction. “Not comprehensively, but… yes. I would have to say that I have a passing understanding of pieces of it.” He shut his book and set it on the coffee table. “Why do you ask?”

Tim helped himself to one of the chairs opposite the table, setting his computer down and giving it a thoughtful look before returning his gaze to meet the hero’s eyes. “At the very least, you probably know how their hero education starts in high school—that aspiring heroes start their training as early as fifteen. I wouldn’t exactly say it’s what inspired me to ask you for your guidance, but it’s something we don’t have here in the States—even if there _are_ billionaires like you to occasionally take on a pupil, regardless of the dubious legality of doing so,” he finished, smiling thinly.

Bruce was silent for a short moment, as though still trying to search out Tim’s reasons for bringing this up. “That’s all true; hero training can’t properly start until adulthood here. If you’re going to say that it’s a weakness we have here in the West, I agree; that’s partly why I agreed to train you, after all.” He paused only briefly, crossing his arms as he regarded his protege. “You make it sound as though it’s not enough.”

“Well, it goes without saying that personal training from the Batman is enough for _me_ , but I think that you know that—thankfully—it isn’t just me. A lot of kids out there want to be heroes, and… you’re already familiar with what I’ve been doing with my friends after school, right?”

“Vaguely. This is the group that includes Joshua?”

“Right. There are a few others—kids who also have their sights set on a career in heroism. Kids at Gotham _Prep,_ of all places. And I know high schoolers can be fickle, but… I think the desire is real, Bruce. And some of them have quirks that could give the professionals a run for their money—with practice. I won’t go into details, but we have telekinesis, hydrokinesis, water- _breathing_ , flight, clairvoyance… of a sort, anyway. These are just the ones in _my_ school and _my_ social circle. I can’t even imagine how many more there might be throughout Gotham—or the rest of the Eastern seaboard.”

He was answered with more silence, Bruce looking somewhere between thoughtful and bored at this picture of Tim’s high school shenanigans.

Tim took it as a sign that he should keep trying: “They’re strong, Bruce. Or will be. Could be. If it weren’t for the training that you’ve given me, I… I’d have absolutely nothing to offer them,” he said—but tried to rally after realizing how pathetic that sounded. “Just imagine what teens with powerful quirks could accomplish if _they_ were receiving that training, instead.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “While I’m not sure I know exactly where you’re going with this… I’m not opening a school, Tim. You and the rest of the ‘Robins’ are an exception.”

“Right. I get that. It wasn’t really my plan to ask you to run a _school_ , but there may be room for some sort of—I don’t know—after school _program_?” asked Tim, the pitch of his voice rising in such a way that suggested even he found the idea a bit implausible. “A place where talented young people can learn, practice, and prepare themselves for the fight against crime.”

The look on Bruce’s face was one of pity, and Tim tried not to hate himself for it. “It’s not at all a bad idea,” the hero placated, “but something like that would be difficult to manage, don’t you think? On top of that, I think you underestimate how many kids—how many _people—_ really want to be heroes. Your friends may all earnestly wish to do what they can, but there will be plenty of people who might look at it as more of a hobby—some heroes already do, in fact. And many more of them, on seeing what a hero’s wage and workload truly looks like, will quickly realize that it’s not something for them. Add in the volatile nature of a teenager—no offense, Tim—and whatever it is you have in mind—this project of yours—starts to look more and more difficult to achieve.”

Tim sat back in his seat, straining to keep a thin little smile on his face. Batman was right, of course. Heroes had to be managed—and so did teenagers, for that matter. Finding a place for he and his friends and other ambitious adolescents to consistently meet and grow was… unlikely. There was no community center for heroically-minded children. If Tim wanted something that resembled a school or a club, it would still take some adults—ones with know-how, no less—to supervise them.

He looked to his laptop, where—somewhere beyond that sleeping screen, lurking in the depths of its hard drive—the rest of his plans slept, now looking so small and laughable to him. Tim realized there was certainly no point in bringing up some of the even _more_ grandiose ideas he’d hidden in his pocket, such as the raising of an artificial island in between Gotham and Metropolis that would hold a structure—a tower, perhaps—that might house and regulate teenage heroes from _both_ of these populous urban metropolises. No doubt such a structure would be expensive, and on top of that would likely never receive approval for fear of disturbing shipping lanes, ferries, etc…

And this was all without ever mentioning the pipe dream of smart, customizable, and personalized education software that would complement their secondary education with the hero-focused studies they had hitherto lacked. In addition to being a huge pain to develop, who knows if a bunch of teenagers would have the motivation to sit themselves through their own _extra_ studies? All for a chance at becoming a hero, no less, and risking their lives for a salary that—if they were lucky—would measure up to a retail manager’s.

Tim scratched the back of his neck and tried to stave off the embarrassment, wondering why these ever seemed like reasonable ideas in the first place. No doubt he should have approached the whole thing as a joke and waited to see if Bruce latched onto anything.

“You should know that I’m impressed with you, Tim,” said Bruce, his voice actually sounding rather loud at the end of this uncomfortable silence.

Tim blinked, this unexpected compliment certainly not helping with his sense of embarrassment. “Oh, uh… right,” he mumbled lamely, unable to muster whatever it might take to accept those words. A small part of him wished to snatch up the laptop and bolt from the shame—an exaggerated reaction he knew to be ridiculous, so he very carefully made sure to maintain both his seat and his composure as he stroked his chin a bit, feeling more patronized than mollified by Bruce’s words—even if he likely deserved as much. “Thanks.”

Timothy wasn’t surprised that Bruce seemed to sense this discomfort, watching in his periphery as the hero slowly rose to his feet and made his way to the opposite sofa, sinking down next to him. “I’m serious. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. I would never have taken you on as Robin if I didn’t see the potential there—in your talents and your ability to learn, yes—but most of all in your commitment to a heroic future. A desire not just to see justice, but to enact it—to right wrongs and to protect. It’s these qualities that matter most, and you would not be Robin if I did not see them in you.”

Tim continued to sit in relative silence, feeling a confused mixture of comforted… and irritated. Tim didn’t see any of these apparently precious qualities in Damian, even if that was _different_ ; did Bruce? Was any of that really valuable at all when compared to having the privilege of being adopted by Batman?

Something like that could earn someone much more than some condescending words—kind though they might be.

He returned to reality once he accidentally met Bruce’s eyes, shamefully turning his gaze back to the laptop as he tried to remind himself to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

“I appreciate it, Bruce—really.” He smiled, chuckling a little as he tried to compartmentalize the rejection. “And it’s true that it wasn’t the best idea, maybe. I’m probably… getting ahead of myself, letting the whole Robin thing get to my head—that sort of thing.”

Bruce’s eyebrow rose in mild concern. “That’s not what I was implying, Tim, and I admit it troubles me a little to hear you think of it that way. I can tell that you approach the Robin mantle quite seriously—for your age, you treat it more professionally than I could ever ask. Perhaps already more sincerely than either Dick, Jason, or Kate do,” he added, with a wry smile. “I’m glad you have faith in your friends, but not everyone has what you do—not even many professional heroes, in fact.”

_This_ , Tim thought, sounded closer to something like a genuine compliment. He wasn’t certain that he would have billed “earnestness” as one of his most important traits, but it was true that this seemed to be one of the few things that he uniquely shared with Bruce: while they appeared to have very different reasons for doing so, it was true that they were both invested in creating a Gotham with a brighter future—one where punching bad guys in the jaw would hopefully become a thing of the past, rather than a matter of course.

Hence the new caves. Hence the aggressive, _perhaps_ concerning approach to surveillance. Hence Tim’s own desire to try and broaden the system even more, by widening the options of young heroes-in-training like himself. Youths hardly lacked for passion, after all, so if that was something they could _use—_ if they could get the most zealous and eager of them to embark on a path that sought justice and safety… nothing about that was _misguided,_ was it?

Tim smiled to himself, indeed feeling a bit reassured, although not necessarily by Bruce’s words alone, even if they had helped him to form his conclusion: his idea hadn’t been _wrong_ —it was simply incomplete. Given another couple of years, perhaps, and his continued thought and effort might be able to turn this idea into something near-perfect. The system already worked, after all; they had only to look at Japan in order to understand that. Now they simply had to adopt it—somehow.

_Difficult to achieve_ , Bruce had said. Well, the same could be said of Bruce’s mission altogether, couldn’t it? But that didn’t mean the Batman was going to be giving up any time soon. Perhaps Tim could say the same. He could feel his confidence slowly returning as he left the manor grounds, feeling vaguely _defiant_ in the face of the logistical challenge he had come up with—the very one which had made Bruce Wayne balk and name it difficult.

Fine, Tim thought. With a bit of refinement, he could make it a reality. With a clear enough plan and the benefit of the funds surrounding him—the Drakes, the Waynes, etcetera—it was only going to be a matter of time before he and his teenage companions were running their _own_ hero program—perhaps their own private hero company, although that may indeed require the aged and moneyed hand of a successful business officer to keep things practical.

Well… no reason not to hope, anyway.


End file.
